


Orange and Clove

by CrystalynnStar



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Enemies to Lovers, Fucked Up, Handcuffs, Kidnapping, Levi Ackerman/Eren Yeager-centric, M/M, Murder, Non-Consensual Bondage, Smut, Unhealthy Relationships, Yandere, Yandere Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:13:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29731632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrystalynnStar/pseuds/CrystalynnStar
Summary: “Can I kiss you?” Wait what? Was he really… asking permission? Nothing made any sense anymore. Eren just wound up confused, disturbed and intrigued all at once.“Levi, you have me… in chains.”Yandere, Eren x Levi,A coffeeshop AU but with the most messed up twistcomplete. Updates on weekends
Relationships: Levi Ackerman & Eren Yeager, Levi Ackerman/Eren Yeager
Comments: 11
Kudos: 71





	1. Mister Customer

**Author's Note:**

> FOR THOSE SENSITIVE TO NONCON:  
> Fair warning: in this AU Eren is traumatized by his mother's past murder and sexual assault so there will be references and imagery related to his repressed memories of what happened to her. 
> 
> Further, there will be kidnapping and one or more main characters being held against their will.
> 
> Anyone particularly sensitive to non con should NOT read this story. Thank you.

Honestly, Levi understood exactly why he’d bothered to apply at the precinct, and it wasn’t because he believed in justice or the police or whatever the fuck. In fact, it was the exact opposite. He wanted to know how they worked, what made them tick, and most importantly, how their investigations could be stymied without making too much mess. Not that he was opposed to making a mess. In the past, during his days running with his brothers back in New York, he had made his fair share of messes. Snitches wound up smeared across the pavement, where they belonged, and so did rivals and marks of all shapes and sizes. But those days were long since behind him, even though they had granted the know how he needed to bust enough idiots to wind up promoted to Detective. It felt almost hilarious walking around with a badge and a gun, especially on the days he engaged in his favorite pastime by far: researching Eren Jaeger.

That blue eyed little bitch had been harder to pin down lately, though, having quit jogging in the park for some fucking reason, and of course that threw all kinds of wrenches into Levi’s plans. So of course he had been forced to switch to plan B, and speed things up. Still, he figured he wouldn’t mind switching to C or D, but he really did NOT want to switch to E, execution. That would fucking suck. After all, Eren surely wouldn’t look so beautiful and carefree after something like that...

* * *

“You really need to get back into working out in the mornings.”

Eren rolled his eyes as Armin reminded him of that for the ten millionth time. “Yes, yes, I know Mom,” he said, sarcastic. “It’s just... that park always feels so creepy. You know, I saw like ten zillion episodes of True Crimes, and also that sex victim show I love, and do you know like everyone who winds up dead got kidnapped in the park? There’s so many places to hide bodies there too. Like the pond and the woods and-”

“Eren please, you’ll scare the customers.” That was another of his best friend’s go-to excuses to shut Eren up, but Eren only wound up shrugging, used to it. Armin never had appreciated the absolute art that was Law and Order, but Eren lived for a good mystery. One of these days he swore he’d move to New York and get a real job like that. With that much crime, surely they’d need an enthusiastic new detective, right?

Either way that was why he’d taken this dumb job at this shitty little café. He’d never really been the biggest fan of coffee or tea, but nowadays he could make an amazing cup of either. It was all for the sake of getting those nice big tips, the ones that would one day finally afford him a ticket out of this shitty suburban nightmare that was his hometown of Shiganshina.

“Welcome!”  
“Welcome!” He and Armin had managed to say it almost exactly at the same time again, and Eren felt a little shiver of pride. Just one step closer to precious New York… “Welcome to Café Rose, how can I make your morning?” he practically sang, gliding right over to the grumpy-looking new customer as if he were actually glad to see him sitting right down to order.

Actually, once he was paying attention, Eren suddenly realized he really was glad to see this guy. He was hot as fuck to put it simply, with highly visible muscles that looked ready to rip right through his fitted suit and a face that looked like it’d been carved by god himself. He also had this gorgeous black hair with the most unique undercut, and piercing dark grey eyes, but unfortunately they seemed fixated on the worn-looking leather-bound book in his hands, which he seemed to be writing in. Eren wondered what exactly was so interesting when the man didn’t look away from said book for even a moment while ordering “the nicest tea this shitty place actually has.”

At that Eren wandered off, snickering as he decided to make no comment. This tiny little café was indeed very outdated, having reportedly been left with exactly the décor it had had since the 1980’s... Besides, the guy looked like he had money, and Eren wasn’t about to make any waves that might stop him getting a nice tip…

“Our best tea apparently,” he reported when Armin gave him a questioning look. “No food I guess. Not that the guy looks like he needs any more protein.”

“That’s not it.” Armin hurried over while Eren got to work on the tea, but he wound up rolling his eyes before Armin even explained. “He’s your type right? And I don’t see a wedding ring.”

“Armin, I told you so many times, I don’t have a type anymore. Not since that night.”

“Oh come on. You can’t just hate the entire male half of the human race, especially not when you’re gay!”

“I don’t hate them, I just don’t trust them,” Eren corrected, “not now I know what they’ll do.”

“Not every man on the planet is a homicidal rapist, Eren.” Armin practically begged, “Please at least try to talk to him. Maybe just think of it as practice. You don’t have to flirt. Any step toward socializing with humans is better than none.”

“Fine, fine if it’ll shut you up.”

“YES!” Armin had obviously tried to whisper that cheer but hadn’t really succeeded, and the glare this earned from their only customer was so powerful Eren swore he could feel it all the way from back here behind the counter. Those intense eyes returned to that book momentarily though, just as Armin returned to his rightful perch at the cash register.

“Here you are!” It seemed like no time before the tea was done brewing and ready to be served up in its fancy silver and glass cup. That was one thing Eren did like about this place. Everything but the décor was chic and modern, and the cups were especially classy, double walled and crystal clear. Eren made sure to never mention such things, though, as he didn’t enjoy fitting that particular gay stereotype… “Can I get you some cream or sugar?” He offered his most charming smile, but the customer shook his head, silent. He did carefully take a first sip, though, and Eren grinned as that once indifferent and maybe even cold face changed for just a moment. “Yummy right? It’s my favorite. That particular blend is only made in France, but funny enough, I learned how to perfect it in New York. All it takes is a pinch of-”

“-clove.” Eren stared, his secret suddenly out, but the customer didn’t seem to notice his surprise. Not only that, but he put the tea down then, followed by a couple of bills and then stood to leave.

“Oh um, thank you for coming!” Eren had at least managed to call after him, but then the guy was just suddenly gone and he found himself sighing aloud. “Fail.” Clearly he’d annoyed him somehow, though Eren had no clue what he’d done wrong. Either way he made to clean up the still almost full cup of tea, but when he lifted the ten dollar bill, he found not one but two hundreds tucked underneath. “HOLY SHIT.” He rushed immediately to the door, certain this had to have been a mistake… until he saw the car the guy was getting into. _Well damn_. The thing looked to be worth about ten times his annual salary… _Wow_.

Returning to work, Eren wondered if he’d ever manage to score that kind of job, or even better, that kind of man. “Maybe I’m not too out of practice after all,” he told Armin, waving the beautiful tip in his face as he passed.

“Holy crap, what did you say to the guy!” Armin’s eyes were huge and he rushed right over. “You meeting him out back for a quickie or what?”

“Oh shut up.” Eren ignored that vulgar joke, surprised to even hear such a thing from his usually innocent friend. Maybe it really had been too long since he’d dated if even Armin was starting to get desperate to see him get laid. He gave Armin one of the hundreds regardless, shoving it into the pocket of his apron before he could protest. “All I did was deliver the best tea in this place. My famous orange and…” Eren paused, suddenly realizing the tea he was about to dump out was actually not orange and clove at all, but black and citrus, the owner’s favorite...

 _Huh_. He still dumped it, pocketing the rest of his fantastic tip, and it wasn’t until he’d reached the table again and begun wiping it down that he managed to put a finger on why seeing that black tea had made him feel so off kilter. “Armin…” He wandered over to his best friend, thinking aloud. “That guy… He guessed the flavor in a tea I never even gave him.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Well I would’ve made orange and clove since he asked for the best, but we’ve been out of orange since yesterday, so I made the black tea instead, with lemon, and yet when I brought it up, he definitely said ‘clove.’ It seemed almost like he already knew what I was gonna say, except I’m sure I never met him before…”

“Oh great, let me guess,” Armin rolled his eyes. “Now you’re gonna go home and buy another firearm because someone’s ‘definitely’ stalking you and if you don’t you’re gonna wind up kidnapped and raped just like your mom because the scourge of the universe, men, are always out to get you, right?”

Eren blinked. “No, I just-you know what, nevermind.” He went back to his own business, embarrassed. Was that really how people saw him? Eren didn’t think that was all that fair. He only had a few guns, one for the floorboard of his car, one for the living room, one for the kitchen, the bedroom and then for the bathroom. _And that one underneath the coffee table, and… Okay fine. Maybe I do have a lot of guns. But if Mom had had one…. No_. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t think about that anymore. There was no changing what had happened. He had promised himself and his closest friends that he would stay in therapy and learn how to move on. It had been five damn years after all, and the residual trauma kept him trapped as a person he didn’t want to be, angry and hyper vigilant. It had even sunk his chances of entering college… And Armin’s too.

Honestly, that was another big motivator for his plans to escape to New York. If he left their small town then Armin could leave too and finally give that brilliant mind of his the nourishment it deserved. Although he knew Armin would never say so, Eren could tell he’d only put college on hold for the sake of being his support during those first few terrible years. _And he probably kept me alive_.

Eren hardly even remembered those first years of nothing but rage and pain. He’d stopped eating, attending school and some days couldn’t even get out of bed. Every time he so much as tried leaving his house at night he had a breakdown or another fit of rage. Every stranger on the street looked like his mother’s killer or else his own future killer, and both his waking thoughts and dreams at night became filled with knives, ropes and bloody rape.

Nowadays, looking back, he knew Armin and his adopted sister, Mikasa, had made all the difference. They had been the ones to step up and start driving him to school, forced him to visit the psychiatric hospital and even dropped by on weekends to deliver home cooked meals and clean up his apartment for him. Dad had sold the house as soon as possible-too many memories-and skipped town, so Eren wound up on his own, whether he was a wreck or not.

Mikasa had been offered a full scholarship-no surprise, as she’d always been the best in practically every sport she’d ever tried-so she’d left for college in another town, but that hadn’t stopped her dropping by every weekend for two full years, until she was sure Eren wouldn’t keep wasting his Saturdays hunting for clues and obsessing over finding and putting down the monster who’d killed Carla…

Looking back, Eren honestly felt nothing but embarrassment. Nowadays he did indeed keep firearms, but his obsession with crime and murderers had now been tamed into a tendency to stay up too late at night watching crime shows and eating too much popcorn… Hopefully that was more normal… But then again, if he ever did find that guilty piece of shit…

“EREN, EREN!” His thoughts were interrupted as Armin suddenly burst into the room, holding out the same hundred dollar bill Eren had forced on him. “LOOK!” He thrust it into his hands and Eren was confused for a moment, but then recognized what he must’ve been getting at. Neatly written in the blank space on this bill was what definitely looked to be a phone number. _No way.._.

He pulled out his own, checking twice, but found nothing, so he gave it up when Armin obviously wanted to trade. Eren held the returned bill in both hands, both terrified and intrigued. He had not tried even so much as a coffee date since high school... _This is what he was so busy with?_ “Oh my god, Eren, you HAVE to call him!”

“I don’t...” He was already shaking his head on instinct. “I don’t think I’m r-”

“Oh, for god’s sake, please at least text him!”

Eren quickly shoved the bill down the front of his pants, the only place he knew Armin wouldn’t try to take it, but he still waved his hands in surrender. “Okay okay, I’ll... text him... Later.”

“Eren, come on. It’s not healthy to-

“You know what? I think it’s time I went home.” He untied his apron and headed right out, ignoring Armin’s obnoxiously reasonable call of, “wait a minute, what if they dock your pay again?” from behind him. _Whatever. It was only fifteen minutes anyway… Oh wait_. Actually it was an hour and fifteen minutes. Eren turned right back around. “On second thought, I’ll wash the dishes.”

“Holy fuck that was close.” Levi swore he’d almost had a heart attack just from seeing Eren reach back to untie that damn apron. Messier plans C or D would be needed if this stupid brat was going to insist on being a bad employee yet again and Levi really didn't want to resort to that. The rain was also starting to come down, drumming its annoying little beat on the roof of his car, but at least he knew how to tune that particular annoyance out. He had spent enough time in here, after all. Jotting down notes, making abundant use of his binoculars and Vaseline… But not tonight. Tonight was the night. Finally. He had gone over so many scenarios scene by scene and weighed their pros and cons and possible outcomes so many times. Honestly, he wasn't surprised Eren hadn't decided to use the perfectly good number he'd given him. The next step remained the same: walk right up to him.

After all, he had his new, beautiful promotion to detective and Eren had finally started taking “her advice” and begun walking home on his own. “Move forward from the tragedy,” she’d surely said. “Prove to yourself that the world isn’t dangerous.” Well there was a reason shrinks weren’t paid as much as he was, a very simple one… lack of intel.

* * *

“FINALLY!” Eren more or less bolted out the door, calling, “see ya tomorrow!” behind himself as he burst out into sweet, precious freedom. He’d jogged the first couple blocks, hoping Armin wouldn't call him back to help clean and lock up, and when it seemed he wouldn't, Eren slowed down despite the little droplets still stubbornly falling from the sky and got to breathe in sweet, precious freedom.

The street wasn’t terribly wet, but it seemed just as ugly and deserted as ever, the sky overcast and grey. The perfect setting, he thought, for being pulled over despite not even being in his car right now… And that’s exactly the joyous experience he got a chance to relish.

He stood aside as the less than inconspicuous black car rolled right up, flashing blue and red lights. On instinct Eren had paused, even though he wanted so badly to be home. He’d seen dozens of detectives like the one that would surely step right out to meet him, having talked to so many regarding his mother’s death. But obviously this one would have to just move along. He was over her murder after all. He was moving on, just like his therapist had said. He was-

“Eren Jaeger?”

 _OH_. Now everything made sense. He studied the badge being presented, shiny and gold, and knew it was legit, though he didn’t recognize this guy’s name. He must’ve been new. _And wait a minute.._. He knew that hair, or rather that undercut and godly beautiful face! “If it isn’t Mister Customer!” _Thank goodness!_ Surely this meant the guy hadn’t wanted to date him after all. He’d wanted to talk about business. _But since I didn't call he had to come find me. Oops._ Eren smiled feeling weight falling from his shoulders even though the guy looked as unfriendly as ever. The dark sunglasses and suit did nothing to hide those beautiful biceps which still looked like they wanted to escape, though…

“I’m gonna need you to come with me for some questioning. Your-”

“Look, I’m moving past what happened to mom. It’s been five-”

“-mother’s killer has been identified and detained.”

“WHAT?” The whole world seemed to screech to a halt. _Impossible. Fucking impossible_! “But I… the case closed or something, didn’t it? You guys stopped calling and-”

“Unsolved homicide cases never close, Mr Jaeger. More importantly, do any of these men look familiar?” He held out that very same “book” Eren remembered from the cafe and Eren felt his heart freeze. _That’s him_! Right in the center of a row of strangers was the face Eren knew he would never forget. _That’s him_! The “repair man” he’d sworn up and down had come to their house that day! But they’d said there was no way to track a fake repair man in a plain white van. That there was no hope for- “All we need now is someone who can identify our culprit, point him out in a lineup,” the detective said simply, closing and pocketing that precious notebook.

His face stayed just as neutral, like he didn’t give a single fuck, yet Eren was gripped by a storm of emotion. There was anger and intrigue and so much hope all swirled into one, but chiefly, there was confusion.

“Pardon my French, Sir, but how? You don’t even look like you give a fuck.”

The detective shrugged. “That’s not French, kid. I speak French, as well as German and Russian. Either way I’m new. They dumped a bunch of old cases on me and so now here we are on this 'lovely’ day.” He shrugged but then turned to his car, which was still running, and pulled the door to the seat just behind his own open. “Now, if you don’t mind, this case is old, it’s almost the end of my shift, and Law and Order is on tonight.”

“Oh uh… alright.” Eren nodded and got right in the car without thinking twice. He could understand that reasoning perfectly after all. This detective seemed more tolerable than the others anyway. His car smelled delicious, like perfect cleanliness but then a little hint of mint tea… _Oh yeah_. That jogged his memory, and Eren leaned forward just as the car pulled off. “Oh yeah, I wondered something, Mister Customer. Remember how I served you black tea and yet you said-”

“Yeah I noticed that too.” He shrugged, once again seeming not to care. “Even professionals slip up sometimes.”

“Yeah, but how did you know my go to fancy tea was the orange with clove?”

“Because I’m good at my job,” he said simply. “So much so that I wondered if you even noticed my tailing you all last week.”

“Hah, but I did.” Eren felt accomplished and it made him grin once again.

“And that’s why you quit jogging in the morning?”

“Yep.”

“Yet you didn’t quit walking home alone at sunset.” The detective clucked his tongue. “You do know most kidnappings occur after school right? Not before?”

“Yeah, but only if the culprit is a petty criminal. And I can take a guy like that.”

“Huh. So you’re the type to think things through suddenly.”

“Well yeah, I guess. I try to be quick on my feet anyway…”

“Noted. No offense, but I’m tired, kid. Do you mind?” He turned on the radio, or possibly a collection of hand picked music, and Eren nodded.

“Not at all.” Eren loved this song anyway. It was one of his favorites. And so was the next one that played, and the next one, and the next… And the sky was getting darker and darker the more he listened, and the roads were becoming less and less familiar the further they drove, until finally they were taking a dirt road, and Eren had to double check that he had his cell phone and that it had some charge. 

_Wait, what am I freaking out about?_ This guy was a man of the law. He was safe here, right? It wasn’t like he’d been handcuffed or drugged. But then again, this was definitely not the precinct… “Uh, I’m sorry but, I thought we were going to like, an office? For questioning?”

“Why bother when I’ve already handcuffed the guy in the house?”

“Wait, what?” They’d pulled right up to a neat-looking little two story home, and the detective got out, finally shutting off the car, and opened Eren’s door for him. He even whipped out an umbrella like a perfect gentleman and gestured toward the house. Walking up to it caused a feeling of nostalgia, though Eren could smell the fresh paint. This house looked so much like his old childhood home, but he knew that was just his imagination running wild again, running back to that horrible night. Back to the loss of his innocence and maybe even his sanity. Yes, definitely his sanity, because when this detective unlocked and opened the door, and he stepped in to find that monster kneeling, blindfolded and hands cuffed behind his back, Eren smiled.

“Happy late birthday,” his new favorite human said, his impassive face finally cracking as one side of his lips quirked upward. Mister Customer finally took off the dark glasses, revealing amused dark grey eyes, and he handed over exactly what Eren most wanted in that moment: a dagger. “Have fun.”


	2. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eren’s eyes stayed gigantic, like he couldn’t really believe this was even happening, but Levi didn’t mind. He simply placed him right in the middle of his new bed, then selected season one and turned on the flat screen, which admittedly was quite a bit bigger than the one from Eren’s old home. Levi figured a few upgrades might be appreciated after all. Like the custom-made chains for the walls and the leather restraints on all corners of the bed. Not to mention the vast collection of different flavors of lube and condoms on the bedside table…
> 
> “You enjoy your show now, my dear. I have a state line to visit and cleaning to do.”

The door was closed and locked behind him, then the windows were drawn, Mister Customer actually smiled, and the piece of shit on the ground even whimpered as Eren approached. All around, as if decorating the scene, pictures of Carla had been scattered. Eren did not recognize most of these pictures, candid photos aiming up her skirt, at the back of her neck and even at her sleeping face through what must’ve been her bedroom window. _So he had planned it._ Exactly as Eren had suspected.

“Marlowe Abernathy, age 48. Single.” The detective still standing by the door spoke as if reading from a script. “Lived in Shiganshina at the time of the crime, working for his brother’s shitty little repair shop. Had access to a white van and a white uniform with a silver cross on the front. Slippery as fuck, though. Had to take a visit to Russia to track him down. Pretty shitty brother, though. Sold him out for just a couple thousand. Shame he’s no longer around to notice if the guy goes missing…”

“It was her fault!” The piece of shit known as Marlowe claimed. “She fought back, the dumb bitch!” Fire seemed to burst in Eren’s chest at those words, and his heart pounded, spreading that fury all through his body. “If she’d just behaved and took it like the whore she was-” He didn’t get the chance to say much else, as Eren was suddenly on him, dropping that dagger but punching hard enough that he felt the skin on his own knuckles split. Everything seemed to turn into nothing but red then. Red and anger and pain and memories. Of Mom’s beautiful laughter. Of how gentle she’d been. Of her cold, dead body on the blood-soaked hardwood floor. Hardwood just like this wood, right at the entrance to the house. Purple bruises all over her once beautiful skin and bright eyes fading. A red gash drawn across her neck like a hideous, dripping smile…

Detective Levi watched without bothering to even contain his amusement, for once. He’d searched high and low for this guy, after all. It wasn’t that he liked seeing filth like this brought to justice, though. After all, he himself had committed his fair share of crimes. But this one was special filth. Filth that had caused Eren pain. _Yes_. That filth needed to be punished. Pulverized. Turned into a beautiful, bloody mess on the floor and then meticulously wiped up and made to disappear by his own professional hands. And even better, it served as his very first offering to his precious Eren. And here he was, savoring the taste, just as planned, just like a dream come true…

It was probably not natural that his excitement started to make his pants feel so much tighter. Probably not okay that he watched Eren’s beautiful fists being smudged with red and wondered how delicious they’d feel wrapping around that same hardness. But at this point, of course, Levi didn’t really care. Eren was already in the house after all. The one Levi had purchased for him and painted for him and renovated to look just like that house he’d loved… Eren’s very own personal, and soon to be permanent paradise…

In his mind Levi had imagined this very scene so many times, to the point he had already purchased the bleach and the garbage bags. Lavender scented, in fact, since Eren seemed to like that particular scent in his bubble baths…

“Stop… please…” _How typical._ The bloody piece of shit was begging through those ugly chipped teeth and satisfyingly swollen, split lips. “Let me live…” _Fucker doesn’t deserve to._ But Eren was slowing and his pretty green eyes had widened. _Shit._ That was not in the plan. He’d stopped punching, although he stayed on his knees, tears running down his beautiful face as he caught his breath. _Damn it._

“I’m done.” He covered his face and sobbed in earnest, not seeming even to notice when Levi’s response was “Tch!” Poor Eren seemed to regret his delicious revenge, the sweet, precious thing…

“Hands behind your back, then.” Levi knelt and as gently as possible, cuffed his wrists behind his back, hating the sadness in those lovely eyes as they met his.

“Are you taking me in?”

“Nah.” Levi pulled the smartphone from Eren’s right pocket and snapped a few photos though, being sure to first rip off the blindfold so he could capture both the terrified eyes of the piece of garbage on the floor and Eren secured in handcuffs. “Just collecting some evidence...” He reclaimed the dagger himself then and wandered right over to Marlowe, leaning down to tap the blade to his terrified face.

“What are you doing?” Eren’s voice was so sweet and fearful, and Levi figured he deserved an explanation anyway.

“Well, you see, Precious one, your intuition was right. I don’t care, normally, except this time the victim was you… Or rather younger you, innocent you, who is clearly dead now…” He nudged one of the pictures on the ground, a close up of Carla’s slit neck. “It’s not everyday investigating a murder makes even me feel something… I understood why you fell apart, losing weight and wanting to die, and it made me sick. So then… I made a promise to that younger you, that this piece of shit would die too...” Levi raised that dagger right back up, meeting Eren’s even wider eyes, “and I never break promises.” He offered a genuine smile. “Close your eyes, Eren.”

Instead he started to struggle and beg, the sweet thing, saying things like “don’t do it,” and “just take him in,” but Levi simply stood with a sigh and caught hold of him. With utmost care, he lowered Eren so he was then forced to face the other direction, then Levi knelt down and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “Sorry Love,” he said simply, “but I never break promises. Ever.” And with that said, he returned to Marlowe, trained ears totally ignoring the sound of this filth begging for his life. Steady and professional, Levi studied the nearest picture of Carla’s split neck for reference, then drew that razor sharp dagger neatly across Marlowe’s neck, watching the blood spill and bubble out.

Levi then stood, watching until the sound of gurgling ceased entirely, vaguely thinking that the way that red blood flowed right out to soak under those photos of Carla looked strangely poetic. It almost matched the once lively and beautiful red of her lips. But she would not have to worry. After all, she’d passed down even more perfect and kissable lips to her perfect and kissable son, and Levi personally, would be making those lips smile plenty from now on.

He stood back and snapped another photo, making sure to capture Marlowe’s dead eyes and Eren’s still bound hands, then shut off his phone and instead drew a second pair of cuffs from his coat pockets. These ones had been custom made with pretty polished leather, and as it turned out, they fit Eren’s ankles perfectly and the poor thing didn’t even resist as Levi bound them, removing any chance of his running away. He must’ve been in shock. After all, he’d probably never witnessed a life ending before… Other than his mother’s…

He did start to catch on once Levi had moved on to the gag though, even if it was far too late to get away by then. He struggled and tried to say something, but Levi only wedged his beautiful, custom made gag between his lovely white teeth, then made sure to go fetch a small bottle of sangria syrup to drizzle in Eren’s mouth for him. “Your favorite flavor, right?” Those beautiful blue green eyes went huge, staring right at him, and Levi swore he could hear the gears turning and lightbulbs clicking on in his head. “Of course I’d know that,” he explained anyway. “I know everything about you.” He knelt and carefully rolled him over, taking Eren into his arms just like the blushing bride he was destined to be. In due time, though. In due time. “Your bedroom is the one on the left, all the way at the back, just like in your old childhood home. Isn’t that perfect?”

He stood then and carried him right to the back of the house, wondering which season of Law and Order he ought to put in the DVD player. Eren’s eyes stayed gigantic, like he couldn’t really believe this was even happening, but Levi didn’t mind. He simply placed him right in the middle of his new bed, the one with the very same color comforters and the very same number of pillows he’d had in his childhood home, then selected season one and turned on the flat screen, which admittedly was quite a bit bigger than the one from Eren’s old home. Levi figured a few upgrades might be appreciated after all. Like the custom-made chains for the walls and the leather restraints on all corners of the bed. Not to mention the vast collection of different flavors of lube and condoms on the bedside table…

“You enjoy your show now, my dear. I have a state line to visit and cleaning to do.”

* * *

 _So he's... dead_. Eren could hardly believe it, and yet he felt something inside of him dying right along with the new reality sinking in. Anger and restlessness seemed to dissolve like a terrible weight from inside of him. What was left was a new Eren, something he didn't understand, and yet he remained all too aware that he wasn't out of the woods yet, because now he would have to contend with a whole new adversary...

For Eren, everything seemed a blur of nothing but numbness and terror, from the moment that… psychopath had stepped back through the door. He was barefoot by now, but the fresh smell of lavender bleach was still powerful as he approached. Eren couldn’t think straight. Everything seemed blurry and grey, but the murderer walking right up to him came through in crystal clear detail, like the still smoking barrel of a gun in his face. “Everything’s nice and clean for you now,” he said softly, maybe referring to his victim? _No wait, I’m his real victim..._ Eren was starting to understand, finally, that this had been not an execution, but a gift… and it was all for him.

But his shocked brain still could not process why. “You must be tired after so much excitement. Let’s get you cleaned up and ready for bed, how about that?” Eren shook his head and struggled, handcuffs or no, but his captor still easily caught hold of him and managed to reposition him with zero trouble. Those trained muscles made too much sense now, clearly not being just for show. Eren did not like that he was able to still find them beautiful though. The thought made him sick. These same muscles had surely lifted Marlowe’s dead body, maybe even helped cut it to pieces, and now here they were, lifting Eren himself with surprisingly gentle care. It didn’t hurt, and that was the most freaky part. Had this guy actually practiced such things beforehand?

“Let me go,” he mumbled on instinct, knowing the gag in his mouth made his words come out as near nonsense. “STOP.” That one got a response, a slight pause and a sweep of grey eyes which did not at all look annoyed. Instead it seemed like he was being looked at with concern. A canister of what looked like wet wipes was fetched, and then used to carefully clean each of Eren’s fingers of all traces of blood. Then his shoes were untied and removed, and even his socks too. It was all done with painless precision, but also with attention to detail and what seemed a desire for cleanliness. _A clean freak?_

Before he knew it, everything was bagged up in another black, scented trash bag, and Eren found himself on edge. What was this guy going to do with him? Eren had some ideas, but they were all too awful to even begin thinking about. He was not stupid or naïve either. Eren knew what happened to young gay men who went missing at sun down. But the fact that he was being kept on a bed rather than the ground, like Marlowe or his mother, surely meant that wasn’t the worst of it. It meant that torment was on the menu for now, not death. It meant this guy still wanted something from him while he was still alive. “No… No, no no…” Eren didn’t even realize he was mumbling aloud until concerned grey eyes were in his face.

“Tell me if any of this is hurting.” Eren only clammed up, confused and just as terrified as ever. Something seemed to be wrong with his body, but he knew exactly what: his body had two reactions to extreme stress, reactions, which almost always led to further disaster, either acting too hastily or freezing. This one was the freezing, the one he'd developed along with his Depression, and it was exactly the opposite of how he’d reacted to seeing that monster atop his mom all those years ago. Eren wondered, to this day, how things could've been different if only this frozen reaction had been around then.

 _It’s my fault._ That was what had really destroyed him, the truth Eren had never let anyone know. That he hadn’t found Carla’s body like the official reports still claimed even years later. No, he’d found Carla, still alive, within reach. Had heard her begging for her life, screaming and suffering… but then launched at her attacker, screaming like an absolute idiot, and spooked him. Having looked back so many times, Eren now understood his mistake had only lasted a minute at most, but that was all her killer had needed. A witness had clearly not been in his plans, as he’d panicked, swiftly slit her throat, and then fled.

Eren's instincts, at the time, forced him to try to save her, and that's just what he did. He'd wrapped his hands around Mom’s warm neck and tried to stop the bloodflow. And that was why he’d been granted the privilege of watching the life fading from her eyes, as well as enough time to inspect the body afterward. He had seen what remained of her pants, and could tell they’d been ripped off with such force that the buttons had even popped off. Maybe Mom had fought back at that time. Maybe that explained all the bruises and the rope that was used. It had tied her wrists behind her, stupidly, because then she’d been lain on her back, on the cold hardwood floor and her beautiful fingers, of course, wound up crushed beneath her own weight. That guy clearly had been amateur. Foolish… and yet the cops hadn’t been able to catch him… _And they’ll never catch this one._

Eren already knew. Not this perfect, meticulous god trapped in human form. Not these careful, precise fingers which seemed to be strapping new cuffs on his wrists... _Leather?_ That much Eren might have expected, but he also felt something soft and smooth acting as a buffer. _Fur?_ That seemed most likely, but it made his body freeze up worse. Every new revelation seemed to add more and more minutes onto his frozen state. _Fur and leather._ A fucking bondage setup. All planned in advance. There was one cuff for each wrist. He noticed, also, that they were not attached to each other. Instead they were hooked up to a long, metal chain which disappeared to somewhere behind him, but Eren understood that unlike Mom, he would not be allowed to put any weight on his own hands. He would not be allowed to hurt himself by even so much as biting his own tongue.

“DON’T!” Again he’d snapped out of his horrified daze, but again he doubted his words made any sense to his captor. He must’ve recognized the harsh, negative tone though, as he paused in the middle of lifting Eren’s shirt and for some amazing reason, put it back down, safely concealing his core. He did lean down to sniff at him after that though, and Eren thanked every star in the sky that he’d bought that fancy 78 hour deodorant, and that he worked in a café which always smelled like aromatics. S _tay still. Be cool. Just don't panic and he won't slit my throat... Right?_

“Well I guess you don’t need a bath, anyway… In fact, you smell beautiful.” That whisper on his neck made him startle, and Eren felt himself squirm as the cool draw of breath bathed that sensitive area of his skin, but again allowed only his freezing response. _It's working..._ “Awe…” His captor had apparently noticed the clear signs of Eren's terror, and appeared to back up just to study him. “You’re surprisingly obedient, aren’t you… I’ll admit to not seeing that coming, but then again, plans can always be changed…” He reached out carefully and to Eren’s surprise, loosened the gag. “We don’t have any neighbors. I made sure of that too.” He lifted that wet sangria-flavored fabric away, then seemed to watch, but Eren only closed his mouth. He was catching on…

“How precious.” The gag then wound up tossed in that black trash bag and so did the cuffs on his ankles and wrists, granting far more comfort. Lastly something which felt like a collar was fitted around his neck. It made a jingling sound when he moved, and again Eren noticed both a fur lining and attached chain.

Multiple soft pillows were set up at the head of the bed then, one of those gentle hands patting the one nearest Eren, but of course he did not even dare to lie down. Instead Eren sat up and drew his knees to his chest, arms wrapping protectively around to hug them while he kept weary eyes following the other male. A warm blanket was also offered, tugged up far enough to at least warm his toes, but this too was ignored, and yet at that point his kidnapper somehow seemed… satisfied.

“I’ll go and disappear these,” he said simply. “Try and get some sleep.” With that said, he carried away the black bag, switching off the TV as he passed, turned down the lights and simply left the room.

He did return a few minutes later, though, seeming to have forgotten to give Eren something. He was quiet and careful, placing that steaming cup of tea right where Eren could see the soft wisps rising out of it. That completed, he left the room, but Eren didn’t even attempt to claim the gift left for him. He didn’t need to anyway.

Not a single sniff or taste test was needed. Eren knew from that tangy, familiar aroma. It would be his favorite. Orange and clove.

* * *

“I don’t know. He just said something about how the guy knew his favorite tea was orange and clove, but I thought he was just being paranoid because he watches too many-god I’m the worst best friend ever!” Armin slapped a hand to his forehead while the puzzle pieces all clicked, fourteen hours too late. “I called and texted him all day today, but he never picked up and so I tried to wait until the twenty-four hour rule but I couldn’t stand it and called you.”

“Ok well first thing’s first: the twenty-four hour rule is just a TV lie, just for future knowledge.” The police officer before him reassured. “Since you know the victim and you can confirm this is extremely out of character, we can treat this like a missing person right away.”

“Missing person… Oh god...” Armin felt himself shaking. “What am I going to tell Mikasa?”

“Next of kin?”

“His sister. She’s off at college and Eren’s dad lives even farther th-”

“Let’s not get hasty and worry the whole family. If they’re not local, they won’t be much help in investigating anyway…” The police officer seemed to consider, pinching the bridge of his nose like his glasses were causing discomfort. “Okay, we have trained detectives we can get right to work on this, but some leads would be nice. Does your friend have any other local friends or family you could point to?”

“Only me…” Armin hung his head. “Ever since his mom died he’s been really shut off.”

“No jilted past lovers or angry girlfriends?”

“No, Eren doesn’t date and he doesn’t like girls… Sorry, that’s probably not important, huh?”

“Even the smallest piece of evidence can help in a missing person’s case,” the officer reassured, turning to a blank page in his notebook and offering Armin a pen. “Here. Let’s get your contact information and address. We’ll need Eren’s home too if you don’t mind, but if you can, try to avoid there for a while so as not to disturb any evidence, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” Armin jotted down the requested information, feeling like he was in a daze. How could he let this happen? Why the fuck had he made Eren walk home alone when he knew he’d been too scared to do such a thing for years? Armin hated that damn therapist in this moment. If only she had not insisted it was time to move on with his life, maybe Eren would be here right now. Sure he would be paranoid and clutching his favorite gun, but at least he’d be here, safe and definitely alive… “Here. I think that’s all of it.” He returned the notebook and the kind officer nodded, thanking him.

“Reach out to personal friends if you can,” he suggested, “let our boys do the rest. If it helps at all, most adults aren’t really kidnapped. Sometimes they get stressed and just go for really long drives.”

“No. Eren didn’t have a car.”

“But he did have a personal phone, right?”

“Yes…”

“So we’ll trace that right away.” He tapped his notes. “I’ve got your number. we’ll be in touch.”

Armin nodded, saying “thank you,” once more but then sighing the moment he was left alone with nothing but his crap job and his guilt. Though Armin was no fan of ignoring authority, he walked right to the front door and locked up, turning the “open” sign over to “closed” and whipped out his phone, starting a new group text.

“Eren is missing. Just talked to the cops. Anyone able to help me print up some flyers and go pass them out?”

Responses had his phone vibrating constantly for the next hour, and a little spark of hope started growing. Even friends who had moved out of town answered, some he had not even reached out to. Sasha, Connie, Jean, Krista, Marco, Ymir… One after another their names lit his phone, whether off at college or in the middle of working their shifts. The crew was ready and willing to put their heads together, just like old times. Grisha Yeager and Mikasa were the only ones he made sure to call, with Grisha not picking up and Mikasa responding with just three words, “I’m coming home.”

* * *

“Okay people we’ve got a live one... Most likely!” The chief laughed as he wandered into the main workroom, waving a new case file like it was money, just as overly-enthusiastic as ever. Levi only half turned his head toward the commotion, easily playing off his interest by making himself a nice hot cup of tea. “Young, good looking gay male went missing yesterday. Standard stuff, walking home alone, sundown, unarmed, a real genius. Cell phone last pinged at the state line, but I’m willing to throw in a bonus so you boys won’t be tempted to just pass it off just because of that. Although, whoever takes this one better be ready to deal with a very… enthusiastic sister.” 

“Is she hot?” Reiner whined as the chief used that file to whap him over the head. _Stupid_ _fucking_ _blonde_ _s_ _._ Why the hell they always had to cause so much trouble was beyond Levi, but either way he reached out past the idiot, gesturing for the chief to hand over the file. 

“You sure, Ackerman? You’re still green and this one sounds like it’ll get hot. Maybe even be on the news.” 

“Just makes it less boring,” he said, shrugging and then giving another “come on” gesture. 

“No, I want it,” Reiner insisted. 

“How about we let someone have it just for today but reconvene tomorrow just in case? I can always make some more copies,” Smith decided. 

Reiner argued, of course. It was what the guy liked doing best, and Levi considered how difficult it might be to clean up if he had to resort to offing a fellow detective. Messy probably, but nothing he couldn’t handle. Reiner was good at his job, though, and that was the real problem. If he took too much interest in the case, it would be time for plan D, New York. The chances anyone would find Eren in that literal sea of people were fantastically low, but Levi knew that right now moving Eren would be difficult to say the least. He would need to be knocked out or sedated... 

“Ooh, the mysterious disappearance of a pretty gay boy! That’s just so spicy!” Stupid fucking Hanji looked ready to get wound up then, so Levi took his chances and just snatched the main file, smirking when the other two detectives whined. There went their chance at a bigger paycheck, but of course, to Levi, this file was worth so much more. He flipped it right open and sat at his desk, sipping his tea while he studied the most enchanting eyes in existence: lovely and unique blue-green, with so much anger and determination. Both of which would be doused now, with the death of the monster who’d caused it. _I'm_ _fuckin'_ _brilliant…_

_“Holy god, he really is gorgeous isn’t he…”_ Levi only rolled his eyes, ignoring the weirdo who promptly perched herself right behind him, apparently reading over his shoulder. He was used to Hanji and how weird she was, and was used to more or less totally tuning her out. Not that she seemed to mind. The woman would probably talk at a brick wall for hours and be perfectly happy just to be able to vomit up whatever stupid theories she was working on next… “Ooh and he really is young, too isn’t he? Oh, Levi, he’s perfect. I wonder if…” _Blah_ _blah_ _blah_ _._

Levi also tuned out large chunks of this file as well, not bothering to read the basics since he already knew it by heart. Age: fucking precious, haircolor: adorable brown, complexion: luscious tan, hometown: small town hell, height: fucking taller than me, known aliases: Blue Eyes, Love, Darling, Sweet Cheeks, etc etc etc. The sister wasn’t hot at all. She looked stern and frankly annoying, as ever, but Levi raised his eyebrows, impressed when he noticed the included information on the “unsolved” case of Eren’s mother. _Typical_. He should’ve figured Chief Smith would go above and beyond like this… _that sucks._ Technically the two cases weren’t related. He had only collected that human garbage to use as a peace offering. After all, he knew there was likely nothing Eren would hate more than being held against his will, but that much was a necessary evil. 

Levi _needed_ Eren after all, needed him like wild dogs needed meat. To deny such a thing any longer would only unleash an angry, hungry plague upon the city, and surely no one wanted that. Even Levi did not want that. He wanted to be done with those nights of prowling the streets, rubbing elbows with fellow monsters and eliminating those identified as enemies. He no longer wanted to “convince” those who did not pay their dues or wring answers from tight lips by prying them open with a dagger… 

That was why Erwin had hired him, wasn’t it? And coincidentally, that was how he’d met Eren. He had met that young, beautiful boy at the very peak of his heartbreak and rage and seen the determination in his eyes. It was likely, he knew, that Eren didn’t even remember that they’d even met on that night. Just another visitor floating by to visit on his river of tears and tragedy. Another sympathetic pair of arms offered to the brat who’d lost his mom in the most brutal of ways…. 

But that first night could not be the last. Levi had felt something special as soon as he’d looked into those eyes, and it grew exponentially with that warmth pressed to his chest and wet tears soaking into his shirt… Even back then, Levi had known it would take years to earn his promotion to detective, so his glances at his future were few, but precious. A photo as he passed by a desk. Carla’s slit neck. Her ruined pants and memos about silver crosses. Little clues. Rumors that the son had mentioned a repair man in a white van knocking at the door… casual banter at the cooler became what Levi lived for, and he started collecting his own journal, jotting down each little sliver of evidence whenever he got lucky and overheard one. 

The watching hadn’t started until later though, when he’d overheard the dumb detective that had been assigned to the case cursing because he’d lost track of the kid. Maybe that was when everything became clear to him. Because he could _not_ lose track of Eren. Not of those passionate eyes and that fiery determination. He had volunteered right away to help track him down, and of course that unprofessional idiot was all too happy to accept the help. Luckily Eren hadn’t gone far. He had just been advised to “try to move on,” and had changed his number and address. 

The new place was a ratty little apartment that frankly did not deserve Eren. It had come with this used couch which looked as if someone had salvaged it from a dumpster, but luckily the thing had been situated so that it sat right in the line of sight from the crappy living room curtains. There Levi would watch his sweet, beautiful brat, knees often drawn to his chest as his precious tight little ass rested on those undeserving couch cushions. Some nights his poor brat would cry as he watched whatever show happened to be on. Some nights he’d listlessly lift little snacks to his mouth, and some nights he’d even cry himself to sleep, and for once his determined face would be relaxed and peaceful. 

That was probably what caused the real trouble. That relaxed face, the face Eren deserved to make more while awake, but instead it only surfaced when he couldn’t keep those miserable eyes of his open any longer. That was the face Levi truly loved, the one which felt most real and natural, the one with that cute little dribble of drool at the corner of his perfect lips… Levi found that he craved any chance to watch Eren looking so peaceful. Hour after hour he’d sit in total silence to watch that, even when his legs cramped up as he stayed crouched awkwardly so that no one could spot him. 

He did try to resist the temptation to think about _other_ fluids sliding down that beautiful face, but was usually unsuccessful. Still however, he always kept things discreet and clean. Silk handkerchiefs which mimicked those smooth, bright lips and soft skin, and even Ziploc bags came in handy, avoiding any mess on his clothes or Eren’s windowsill. He wondered sometimes whether the paint on that windowsill had rubbed away thanks to his own fingers or just the passing of time. There was no way to tell.

At some point Eren had taken to collecting plants, maybe to add some fresh air or some life to that crappy apartment. Either way one particularly bushy one wound up right in front of that window, and at first Levi found this infuriating, but then he learned that he could angle himself just so and see perfectly through the leaves with the newly added bonus of Eren being much less likely to be able to see him in turn. _Perfect_. And from then on he came to watch his precious future spouse every night without fail. 

Life just seemed to smile on him in those ways. It would put Eren on the street right on time to wind up rained on just as Levi drove near, so he’d see how wet clothes clung to Eren’s perfect, tanned muscles and how his hair grew so dark and beautiful. Then life gave him that job within walking distance, so Levi could tail him and admire how his precious, tight ass looked in those too tight black pants he always wore… And then one day, finally, life had dropped a big score in his lap, and of course Smith awarded the proper accolades, right along with the offer of a promotion. By that time Levi had already risen to top of his squad and taken on multiple very dangerous but very lucrative side jobs dealing with particularly sneaky slimeballs which had caught the attention of one too many wealthy victims. _“Make that creep disappear_ ,” dear old Daddy Big Bucks would beg, and Levi would reach right out and count those hundreds with the very same hands he’d used to stroke himself off while watching Eren’s sweet sleeping face. 

Levi actually liked the irony. It was strangely poetic and precious in his eyes. He liked counting the suitcases full of money which he earned by removing stalkers and then reclaiming his favorite perch just outside Eren’s window or café… 

And today was no different. This time, as he read through the names and numbers, he knew he’d enjoy the sensation of telling Eren’s dear sister how sorry he was that the case simply wasn’t progressing. Ideally he wished he could do that while petting Eren’s beautiful hair as those perfect lips sucked him off under the table... Just the thought made him shiver with anticipation. Tonight would be so damn special. The possibilities were simply endless and each one positively delicious. Levi couldn't wait to get home...


	3. How to Earn a Caramel Cream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eren paused, trying to wrap his groggy mind around where he even was… then it hit him. And so did the terror. 
> 
> Why is he behind me! 
> 
> He immediately made to get away from that deceptively delicious warmth, which was definitely a male right behind him, but unfortunately his companion reacted, sitting up and quickly catching hold of him. 
> 
> The fucking collar and chains made it all too easy for Eren to be tugged down, practically into his lap, and Eren accidentally froze. Time itself seemed to still while he tried not to register this sudden world of warm blankets, heat, muscles and clean, softly wrapped eye candy…

“I’m gonna die here, aren’t I?” Eren muttered those words even though he knew no one could hear him. He had studied the ingenious system of chains bolted into the walls, and connected to the cuffs on his wrists. He’d studied every single link, in fact, but of course none were weak. Mister Customer had clearly done his research, and no wonder. The guy was a damn detective. Surely he had seen hundreds of setups like this and been able to take all of the best ideas for himself. “Figures.” Why did life have to hate him so much? If Eren had to be kidnapped, why the hell could he not get kidnapped by an amateur? Why a fucking twisted cop of all things, the one type of man Eren thought he could trust?

This environment was so strange to him, though. He could not help but recognize how similar it looked both to his own apartment and the home he’d grown up in. Eren recognized all the provided books, and even the bookshelf, a near perfect replica of the one he’d had at his own apartment. And the television had been stocked with what looked to be thousands of dollars worth of DVDs of only his very favorite television programs. There was no actual cable, however, and he thought he knew why. Mikasa would undoubtedly be on the news any day now, begging the public for his safe return home.

“That won’t happen.” He already knew. Customer was no fool. He now had photographic evidence of Eren looking like he’d killed someone, and that meant freedom was no longer an option. Even if Eren succeeded in escaping from here, that evidence would surely wind up coincidentally found by the police chief, and then Eren would be locked in a whole new set of chains. Uncomfortable, state funded chains, with slop for meals and cavity searches for dessert. Not to mention he’d have to buy soap on a rope… The thought made him shiver, but it also made him count his blessings as well.

So far Customer had kept touching to a minimum, checking in on him a number of times, but only seeming to approach when it was absolutely necessary. Eren had admitted to needing to pee late at night, for instance, and had been surprised by the gentle care with which he was helped from the bed and then shown how to unwind the chain contraption on the wall until it allowed him enough slack to get into his very own bathroom. He couldn’t reach the shower though, and couldn’t get his shirt off anyway, but he could use the toilet and wash his hands with zero problems. Although the bathroom had a curtain, instead of a door, he noticed Customer had left through the door in the bedroom and closed it behind himself, granting privacy whenever Eren needed it.

“So I’ve been kidnapped by a psychopathic gentleman. Great.” Eren even had his own sofa, matching the same ugly green as the one at his apartment, and a large, very plush bed as well. It felt heavenly every time he climbed up on it, and he knew the sheets and comforters must’ve been expensive, but the size worried him. This bed was easily much larger than any he’d ever seen. Clearly it wasn’t intended to be used by only one person…

That was what truly struck fear into his heart. Not the fact that he was chained to the wall or unable to shower or even that his captor had obviously studied pretty much everything about his life, but the fact that the bed was so large and the collection of lube and condoms situated right beside it was so extensive. What the fuck did it mean? Was this some sort of torture chamber which Mister Customer changed up to suit the victim of the month? Was he gentle at first just to get them to let their guard down but then brutal in strapping his victim to this giant bed and then raping them in every possible position imaginable before “cleaning them up” just as he’d cleaned up Marlowe last night? That scenario seemed most likely.

So the question was simple: how could Eren survive this while keeping both his dignity and, hopefully, his life? Maybe it hadn’t been all that great, honestly, and maybe he’d wasted much of it hating Marlowe and eating chips on his couch while watching Law and Order, but Eren still wasn’t ready to give up his life altogether. He wanted to survive, definitely, but for that he knew he’d have to study his future killer. What exactly did Mister Customer want from him? Should he act scared and obedient or should he try to get his hands on a weapon and look for the right time to attack? Eren guessed it depended on how soon Customer wanted to kill him... _Sooner or later?_

If the answer was sometime sooner, maybe he should lure Customer onto the bed and then use the chains linking his hands together to wrap around his neck? _Wait no._ If Customer wasn’t constantly carrying the keys on his person, that would just be suicide, since Eren couldn't feed himself. _Fuck. He already thought of that. What a shock. Fuck..._

“God, please just don’t let him rape me.” Eren’s thoughts just kept coming back to that. He could handle literally anything else. ANYTHING else... but not that. Not the same horrible nightmare which his mother had endured before her brutal death. It was too much. It would break him and he’d always known it. That was why he’d taken classes on guns and purchased so many of them. Not that they’d come in handy now, thanks to his idiotic tendency to listen to the advice of Armin and his therapist.

Stupid sun-shiney Armin and his cotton candy filled brain! _“Time to move on,” my ass!_ He should’ve just ignored Armin and his pacifist nonsense. Then he would’ve been armed that day and able to fight… well actually, maybe and maybe not. From the looks of it, Customer knew Eren had all his guns in his home, or else he would've been picked up _after_ reaching said home. Eren’s apartment had never exactly been secure. It had a huge glass window in the living room, for instance, and one right in the bedroom too. Breaking one of those would’ve been all too easy for any intruder, but Eren had good reflexes and he would’ve been able to fetch the firearms he kept under the bed and couch and simply shoot the intruder.

But firearms weren’t allowed at work, and since he had sold the car to instead save for New York, he’d left himself vulnerable, just for five fucking minutes, though, the time it took to walk to work… but apparently that’s all it took. “Fucking smartass Mister Customer…” Actually, Eren suspected Customer wasn’t the criminal mastermind he seemed to come off as. He was just focused and studied extensively before making a move. He was “good at his job” in short, just as he’d claimed, but when it came to impromptu interaction, Eren noticed he seemed very different.

Last night, when Customer had spoken to him outside of his detective act, he’d noticed hesitance both in his words and his hands, as if he might’ve been just as unsure as Eren about the fact that he really was here. Eren had no idea what the hell that meant, but naturally he hoped he could exploit it to figure him out. _Either he’s socially awkward and scared of talking to me or… he’s bat shit insane and trying not to just snap and kill my ass._ Both seemed equally likely, and he also knew reality might even be an unholy combination of the two…

For whatever reason, though, Customer seemed to at least want him alive, for now. If only Eren could just figure out why... _Shit!_ The sound of the front door opening startled him more than Eren would ever admit, and he found himself awkwardly knelt by the bed rather than actually in it, peering around it while the door to his new room slowly opened.

There was Customer, of course, arms laden with what looked like… clothing? _Wait! Seriously?_ This was not just any clothing. It all looked too familiar, and when Customer neatly deposited it on the bed, Eren knew for sure he’d somehow gotten into his apartment… Why the hell he’d bothered was beyond him, but either way Eren watched, feeling sort of like a wary cat, as he wanted to stay on the floor and wasn’t really ready to try talking to his apparent new owner. It seemed like Customer didn’t mind, though. He’d briefly looked around, then seemed relieved upon spotting Eren, then he went right to work folding his new clothes for him.

“I picked you out some loft pants if you want to change,” he said, sounding somehow casual, as if he was talking to an old friend, rather than a chained up stranger who was being held against their will. What the fuck was wrong with this guy? “Some of them look too big, but I know that’s only because you lost all that weight. Hopefully you can get back to a healthy weight soon…”

Eren watched for a couple more minutes, then hazarded the first question on his mind. “What did you do with the others?”

Customer turned to him with an eyebrow quirked upward. “Others?”

“The ones you kidnapped before me. Do you kill them when you’re done or…”

For some reason Customer chuckled. “There are no others,” he said. “You’re the only one I love.”

Silence returned, broken only by the soft movements necessary for him to keep folding and putting the clothes in the dresser, which looked insanely similar to the one Eren had in his old bedroom… “Okay fine.” Eren decided to cut to the chase. “Are you gonna kill me?”

“Not if I don’t have to.”

He let that bizarre answer digest. “So you’re saying if I don’t cause too much trouble, and do what you say, you won’t kill me... at all?” Customer seemed to consider that, tilting his head left and then right, then he nodded. “And what about…” Eren didn’t mean to, but he let his eyes wander to the ever present pile of lube by the bed. “Torture?”

Customer set him with a flat look. “Is it not clear enough that I want you to be comfortable?”

“Nothing’s clear except maybe that you’re insane,” Eren argued, but he noticed the way Customer’s usually indifferent face changed, his eyebrows growing closer together, and Eren instinctively apologized. “Sorry, okay, won’t say that anymore. Got it.”

“Eren…” Hearing his name made him shiver, and Eren found himself backing off as his captor rounded the bed. With the length of his chains, he could only move so far away though, and just had to be grateful that Customer came to a stop a few feet away. “Let’s get a few things straight,” he said. “I love you. That’s why you’re here. It’s as simple as that. I wanted you and so now you are here. I am well aware of what I’m doing and the fact that they’ll lock me up for it… if they can ever find me. Regardless, I think you and I could really enjoy one another.” _Fucking batshit insane_ …

“Speaking of, you’re no fool, are you, Eren? I’m sure you looked around while I was gone.” He held his arms out, gesturing to this room, Eren’s personal prison. “What would you say are the chances you’ll ever get out?” Customer didn’t seem to be mocking him, based on what looked like genuine curiosity on that handsome face of his, so Eren decided he could answer truthfully.

“Slim to none.”

“Exactly, and do you understand why?”

“…Because you planned all this?”

“Because you are no fool,” he said, smirking. “But you are not weak either, or quick to give up. I took all of this into account when designing your new life.” He moved closer then, and Eren fought the urge to run, not certain what he should think about the way these dark eyes of his seemed to hold genuine fondness. “I’ve been in this profession for years, so I know people in your situation will inevitably respond one of two ways: either they will fall into madness, possibly killing themselves or their host which only results in their death anyway, or they can learn to adjust to a new way of life. Eren, I'm sure you can guess which outcome I prefer for you, right?" Eren looked around, certain he did indeed know that answer. _So he wants me to live like this? Forever?_

"But... you know that's impossible, right? I'm a man, not a cat."

"Is that really what you want, though?" Customer challenged, making Eren raise an eyebrow. "Is that what any of us really want? To drag ourselves to jobs we hate everyday, dealing with people we hate every day and this cruel, brutal world that breeds monsters like Abernathy and unleashes them on blameless women?"

Eren watched him, unsure if he'd ever before heard something that made both so much and yet so little sense all at once...  
  
"Be honest, Eren. If you could go back, is the life you had really the one you would choose for yourself? You were dealt that hand against your will, but now... someone has decided to intervene and give you a new choice. Would it really be so bad to become a pampered cat instead? To never have to play office politics, listen to another stranger screaming slurs at you on the streets or even have to cook your own meals?" He stepped closer and Eren fought hard against the urge to flee, trying not to insult him. "Eren, it's okay if you don't see things exactly my way, but I’d like if you gave me a chance. As far as owners go, I know I could take such good care of you...” Eren said nothing, mind stuck on the word, “owner,” but he tried to stay present. Customer seemed to try switching topics. “Actually, how hungry are you, on a scale of one to ten? Ten being ‘starving’ and one, for ‘not at all.’”

“Uh…” Honestly he was nauseous, but Eren had already gathered that this guy would not react well to anything that might come off as rude... “Three?”

Customer cocked his head. “Are you sure? You haven’t eaten since yesterday at 1:35pm. That’s over twenty-four hours.”

Eren simply stared in silence, but Customer must’ve guessed what was on his mind, since he pulled out his now familiar journal and offered it. “I keep notes,” he explained, as if reporting something as casual as the weather for the day. Eren didn’t reach out, but Customer simply set the book on the ground and apparently decided to overrule Eren’s three. “I’ll make you something for dinner. Be right back.” With that said, he departed, closing the door quietly, and Eren waited for a few moments, listening to his footsteps fading before grabbing the journal and tearing it open.

 _What the fuck…_ Inside he found numerous photos of himself, his family and even his friends. Multiple pages had been devoted to Carla, with notes taken in neat black writing, but Eren couldn’t bear anything more than what jumped off the page. “COD: Blood loss, no knife found on scene, white uniform, van, Caucasian male, dark hair.” He flipped back and studied four or five pages all dedicated to Armin. “Birthday, November third, height: 163cm, weight, 55kg, known family: deceased. Work schedule: Mon-Fri 7am-7pm, $13 hourly. Likes sweet things.” Similar entries could be found for his father, Mikasa, and even his high school friends like Jean and Sasha, though those ones had been crossed out with “moved out of state,” written across them. “What the fuck…”

Eren had no idea what to think. He had no clue how long Customer could’ve been stalking him, but it seemed like some of this stuff dated back multiple years. He found pages detailing his old home, with pictures of his bedroom, including some that made it clear whoever had taken them had been inside, and on top of that, there were more of his current apartment too, specifically close up shots of his bookshelf and DVD collection…. Looking up, he confirmed that those very same books and DVDs were here too, only they were still wrapped in plastic and they looked brand new. _This motherfucker planned everything…_ If he’d been nauseas before, that was nothing to how he felt now.

And yet Eren couldn’t stop flipping pages and reading his own life. There was even a diagram of his local park, with a sketching of the lake and arrows indicating the path he used to take when jogging in the mornings. This too had been crossed out, with nothing other than “fuck” written in explanation, but the next page instead had a large heart drawn over a new diagram, this time, of the streets he traversed to get to work. Arrows were drawn indicating what side of the street he tended to walk on and in what direction, with timestamps in multiple places, and there were multiple photographs of his bottom half, too, with the camera zoomed in on his waist and little notes written in the corner. _December 15th. No gun. 12/16, No gun, 12/17 No gun, 12/18 no gun, **12/19 NO GUN!!**_ That last one had another heart drawn over the words. _And today’s the 20th, right?_

He expected the next page to be blank, but instead it included a page from a different notebook, with different handwriting, but it had been neatly copied and stapled in _. Armin’s number and address? And…_ of course. _My alarm code. Fucking great._ Unfortunately the notes didn’t give any hint as to who the hell had given away these things, but the next page was interesting. It appeared to be a shopping list of sorts. “Pajamas, fresh towels, chicken stock, coffee, measurements for neck, wrists, finger, box cutter or sharp scissors, markers, duct tape-white.” _What the fuck does he need duct tape for? And a boxcutter?_ WAIT. New ideas then occurred to him, brought on by duct tape, and Eren started to see even more of this twisted picture. Customer had talked as if Eren still had options, but even those, in reality, boiled down to either losing his mind or accepting madness, but this shopping list made him instead recognize there was still that third outcome hanging over his head.

 _Not if I don't have to,"_ he'd said. So this wouldn't be like the life of a pampered cat at all. Owners of disobedient cats didn't usually resort to duct tape and sharp objects, after all, they let them go or put them up for adoption, but clearly Customer was never going to do that. Eren hadn't meant to, but he let his mind recall the darker side of cat owners too. Some people were truly obsessed with their cat, even to the point that if one died, they'd keep its body and have it stuffed rather than ever giving it up. Some people were just that obsessive. Some people were just that strange... Some people were just like...

“Okay.” Eren startled, dropping the journal, but instead of reclaiming it, he backed up, eyes following every step Customer took closer to him. He seemed to be holding a large bowl of something that looked to be steaming hot. “It’s really hot, so be careful.” With that said, he placed the bowl on the bedside table and held out a spoon. Eren decided to just stare rather than accept it, but he just shrugged and balanced it on the side of the bowl. “It’s fine if you’re pissed at me, but don’t go starving yourself or you’ll never be able to fit any of your pants, and then you’ll just have to wear none at all.” Eren said nothing, studying Customer’s bottom half instead.

That journal had given him a head’s up, and sure enough, he noticed multiple outlines of things tucked discretely in Customer’s waistband. One was definitely a pistol, another might have been handcuffs, and the last he had no idea and knew he did not want to know either… _Fuck._ So this definitely confirmed it: death was still on the table, but Eren really, _really_ did not want to die… What the hell was this stuff though? Chicken and dumplings? _Mom's favorite._ But how?

“Why do you know the things Mama used to feed me when I was like… five?”

“Did she?” Customer shrugged, reaching down to retrieve his notebook. He flipped through the pages for a moment before locating one in particular, then held it out so Eren could see. _“Mikasa visit. 6:43 pm. Two Tupperware. Chicken noodle soup?”_ The _“noodle”_ had been struck through with a different color pen, though, the word _“dumplings,”_ written over it.

“This was from when you were sick with the flu last year," Customer said simply. "Thought it might be easier on your stomach.”

Eren stared at him for a long moment, regretting every night he had stupidly not thought to close the curtains in his living room and bedroom… “Do you have… pictures of me naked too?” For what might’ve been the very first time, Customer looked tempted to actually smile, and “maybe,” was his answer. Eren thought he might vomit. _There’s something seriously wrong with you_. Eren wanted to say that so badly but he held it in. _And okay, yes,_ he also really wanted to know this guy’s name, but a part of him also did not want to know it. Maybe this psychopath liked to study absolutely everything about other people, but Eren didn’t want to sink anywhere near his level…

“Eat your soup. I’ll be back in a bit.” He again left the room and Eren watched. Once he was sure his footsteps had faded, he grabbed hold of the bowl and went right to the bathroom, dumping the contents straight into the toilet. Eren wasn’t stupid. Soup would be all too easy to drug or poison, and the last thing he wanted was to wake up with that psychopath balls deep inside of him with no recollection of how, why or when. “I’d rather starve than-shit!” He’d reached out and had only just flushed when a sound startled him into dropping and thus shattering the now empty bowl. _FUCK._

Mister Customer had apparently poked his head back in the room and started to say something, maybe something he’d forgotten to mention before, but now wound up wandering over to Eren with that flat look returned to his face. He studied the scene for a moment while Eren stood there like a deer caught in headlights. He couldn’t help checking and rechecking the very gun-like shape in his waistband, praying Customer wouldn’t reach…

But then the moment passed and all he said was, “I see,” before turning and leaving the room. _I am definitely gonna die._ Eren wandered back to the bed like a robot, still considering whether he might be able to get one of these chains around Customer’s neck, or else maybe wrestle that gun from him...

“Okay.” Once again the door opened and Customer walked right in with an almost identical steaming bowl. “Since you’re apparently going to misbehave when I leave,” he said, carrying said bowl right to the bed and sitting beside Eren as if he belonged there, “then I simply won’t leave.” He spooned up a dumpling and blew on it twice, then held it out. “Open up.”

Eren sealed his mouth, shaking his head, and he saw the way Customer’s normally stoic face twitched with anger, but Eren still couldn’t risk it. Instead he crawled to hide on the other side of the bed, hating how he once again felt like a cat. “What’d you put in it?” he asked, suspicious.

“Garlic and basil, you pain in the ass. And don’t say you don’t like them, I know they’re your favorite already.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” He glared but Customer seemed genuinely confused. “Drugs,” Eren spelled out.

“For what? So you can be even more helpless than you already are?” He sounded annoyed but inevitably just shrugged and shoved that spoonful of soup in his own mouth, chewing and swallowing loudly. “There. See? It’s safe. Now eat already, you stupid brat.”

“Kiss my ass.”

An icy silence filled the room and this time customer definitely glared, but then he seemed to relax. “Alright, fine. I expected at least this much misbehavior from you anyway, so I planned for that too…” He set the bowl down, reclaimed his journal, and then walked back over to the door, where Eren’s chains wouldn’t reach, then pulled out what looked like a black smartphone. “Let’s just send a text message to someone you trust. Maybe they will be kind enough to come feed you since you won’t let me.”

“Don’t.”

Customer ignored him, flipping through his journal and then typing in a number. Eren heard all ten digits and felt his world freeze while Customer held the phone up to his lips speaking aloud. “Armin,” he said, and sure enough, the smartphone answered in a robotic female voice, _“You want to save this contact as Armin?”_ He spoke clearly, “yes.” And the phone obeyed, _“Saved. What would you like to do?”_

Eren felt vomit threaten, empty stomach or no. “Please don’t.”

“Send a message to Armin.” Customer seemed to pretend to be deaf, but that smartphone certainly wasn’t. _“You want to send a message to Armin, is that correct?”_ and Customer replied. “Yes.” The little beep made Eren’s stomach twist, but not nearly as much as that smooth, clear voice choosing the message. “Hey Armin, guess what me and Eren are doing right now? Send.”

The phone started vibrating nearly immediately, with no less than ten text message alerts sounding off, back to back, and then it started ringing while Customer offered an actual grin. “Sounds like sweet little Armin is pretty eager to meet me…”

“NO, please! Leave him out of this!” Eren wasn’t above begging anymore. Not for this. Armin wouldn’t stand a chance against this level of physically fit, let alone this level of crazy… “Please, I’ll eat it, I promise. Promises can’t be broken right?”

“Well fantastic.” He’d put on a fake happy voice, but then dropped the smartphone to the floor and crushed it beneath a heel. “No phones allowed at the table.” With that said, Customer reached behind the television, where Eren couldn’t see, and came up with a whole new phone. This he placed on the ground, right by the door, where he surely knew Eren couldn’t reach. After that, he casually wandered right back over and took his seat on the bed again. “Let’s make a deal. If you keep your promise, I’ll let you use that new burner phone and send a text message of your own, how about that?”

“YES!” Eren hated to sound so enthusiastic, and he hated the way his body hurried to join this freak on the bed. How he sat by his side and opened his mouth like a starved animal. And the soup was definitely hot, as promised, and he could taste plenty of garlic and basil. The shit was delicious, right up until the tears started to fall and the taste turned salty with a hint of snot. Customer stopped offering spoonful after spoonful and instead cocked his head while Eren forced himself to swallow and then pressed his palms to his face, finally letting the pain escape. “Please,” he found himself suddenly begging. “Please just let me go! I won’t tell anyone who you are or what you did or anything! Please, please, no one has to know we ever even met!”

Customer suddenly stood, and Eren flinched, not sure whether the look twisting his face was hurt or anger. Either way Eren meant to apologize, ready for pain, but Customer suddenly set down that bowl and fled the room, slamming the door behind him for the very first time.

Eren jumped from the bed before he could even think, and went for that new burner phone, even though he knew it was hopeless already. The chains at his wrists and his neck simply were not long enough, so instead he wound up just standing there, maybe three feet at most from the shiny new phone. Just three feet from the people who loved him. Three feet from freedom…

And he let himself cry.

Then he let himself sink to the ground and cry more, until finally, hours later, his one and only companion returned to find him lying miserably on the ground in a mess of vomit, tears and snot.

“Wha-Eren what happened?” He hurried to check on him but froze when Eren startled and half rose, wide and terrified eyes watching closely. Customer studied him for a moment, then left the room, returning with a bucket of hot soapy water and a washcloth. “Here. Clearly it was too early for soup. I fucked up.” He knelt right down, setting the bucket aside, and helped Eren to sit up. Then he went right to work, gently cleaning every drop of mess from Eren’s face and hands. Once again he surprised Eren with the level of gentle care he showed, as well as the attention to detail. “There now. Any better?” Eren stared at him, incredulous, but still nodded regardless. “Tell you what, let’s take some Benadryl, okay?”

“What?”

Eren fixed anxious eyes on his captor, but Customer’s answer was soft and understanding. “Just to help you sleep a little better,” he explained. “If you’ll take two of those then I’ll let you send two texts, okay?” Suddenly Eren nodded, not daring to give him a chance to change his mind. “Okay, good. Let’s get in bed.” He stood and Eren allowed Customer to help him stand, then crawled into the bed and even let Customer tuck him in.

After that Customer left again but returned with a classic old pink and white bottle in one hand and a glass of water in the other. Eren accepted the bottle first, his cuffs clicking noisily as he shook out two of the tablets, and then he accepted the glass of water to chase them. “Very good.” Once he was finished, Customer reclaimed and set both the water and Benadryl aside. Then he climbed into bed, and Eren immediately felt as if his heart might explode. He feared throwing up again, but tried his best to suppress the urge. _Don’t freak out. Don’t freak out._ “Hey now, don't look like that….” Eren purposely forced himself not to shiver, even if he couldn’t help bowing slightly as Customer slowly reached for him. Gentle, cool hands stroked his hair and again he felt more like a cat than a person. “Just relax, alright? Let's get your stomach healthy again, alright? All we need do is calm down and give it some time." He pulled out that journal and prepared to write. “Let's give you your reward, now. What messages shall I send for you?”

Eren already knew. “One to Armin and one to Mikasa, okay?” Customer nodded. “Send them, ‘I’m okay. Don’t listen to him and don’t look for me. He will kill you.’”

“Hmm.” Customer nodded, as he wrote, then shut his journal and offered a half grin. “Very wise words indeed.”

* * *

“Eren?” He didn’t respond, seeming too far gone on the Benadryl, and now Levi understood the wariness he’d shown toward the soup. It would’ve been all too easy to slip that drug into such thick soup and totally hide the taste, but Levi just hadn’t thought of it. How ironic that Eren had accidentally fed this idea to his head…

“Eren?” He shook him by the shoulder just to see what would happen, but Eren only rolled onto his back, totally oblivious. _Awe_. Levi briefly decided to watch him for a moment, taking in that familiar carefree, calm face he adored. “Just like a dream…” Eren looked so beautiful, and it felt amazing to be able to lie beside him like this, able to not only watch the living art that he was, but to feel and smell him as well…. Levi could even lean in close and feel the warmth of his breath on his nose and lips. It smelled fucking fantastic, better than anything. Just pure Eren, straight from his lungs, through his precious nose and then right into Levi’s…

This right here was exactly what he’d struggled all these years to earn, exactly what he deserved. He had lost count of how many nights he’d just lie awake in this very same bed, pining away, wondering when he’d finally locate that fucking piece of trash so that he could trade his beloved revenge on a platter and earn his devotion in return…

_But he cried._

Perhaps love simply didn’t work that way. Maybe Eren had really thought revenge would make him happy, but clearly that wasn’t true…

So plan B had to become C, sleep aides, but Levi knew that if Eren was going to be miserable, the next plans might have to be skipped over for E. God, Levi didn’t want that. Eren just seemed so warm, and these moments together so precious…

Hopefully soon Eren could start to accept his new life, but Levi knew he would first need to eliminate anything which could slow that process: hope for escape, _taken care of,_ cruel treatment, _not a problem,_ and finally attachment to the people of his previous life... Now that, judging by the number of “MISSING” posters already appearing around town, was going to be the one serious thorn in his side.

Speaking of, a little electronic noise interrupted the lovely silence in the house and Levi wound up forcing himself to stand and wander to his smartphone. The damn thing was lit up with missed calls and text messages from work, most appearing to be from Mikasa. He’d been diligent about acting concerned and responding during business hours, but now simply sent back, “Ms. Ackerman, it is 12:25am.” Amusingly, the response was nearly immediate. “Yes and my brother is still missing.” _Cheeky little shit..._ He too replied right away, offering, “our office opens at 8am.”

With that taken care of, he switched his own smartphone off and double checked that Eren’s was off too, then he fetched his journal and dug through the box just behind the television, selecting one of the pay-by-card smartphones and checking to make sure it looked like it had a decent camera. Levi called the number and put a little bit of data on the thing, then, for the second time tonight, typed in Armin’s number from the journal. It was almost too easy to approach and snap a picture of Eren’s peaceful sleeping face, and he then attached it to a text message, writing, “Doesn’t he look precious tonight?”

Once again the response was immediate, “WHO IS THIS,” and he couldn’t help but grin. Good ol’ Armin, always looking out for sweet, precious Eren… Rather than answering, Levi sent back, _“did you get his text from the other number?”_ and again grinned when the answer was “yes. Who is this? PLEASE don’t hurt him. What do you want?” _Silly boy_. Clearly he wasn’t about to heed Eren’s warning. _How perfect._

Levi considered for a moment before replying again.

* * *

“Listen, listen! It says… ‘He’ll be fine if you stop making so much noise. Take those fucking signs down.’”

Armin held his smartphone in both hands, reading aloud with dread in his voice.

“That means it’s someone in this town!” Ymir said immediately, nudging Krista and Sasha awake. “GUYS the kidnapper is texting us! Wake up!”

“What’s going on?”  
“Huh!”

“Everyone shut up! What do I say?” Armin was hovering over a conglomeration of Eren’s high school friends, sleeping bags and various blankets and pillows, and he knew it was past midnight but was too scared to wait on replying to these cryptic text messages.

“Tell him, ‘We’ll pay anything. What do you want?’” Ymir advised, then the room went silent while Armin typed. It was dark, and that made the ensuing flash of light and frown on his face that much more foreboding.

“I already have what I want,” he read aloud.

“Bullshit. Everyone has a price,” Ymir insisted. “Krista,” at her side, seemed to think but, only for a minute.

“Tell him five million, in cash, but Eren must be unharmed.” She nodded even when Armin set his widest eyes on her. “It’s worth it. My family will pay.”

Nodding, Armin sent the message, but the same reply came through, almost instantly. He just says, “I already have what I want.”

“Ten million,” Historia countered, but again the answer was the same, and the room went briefly silent.

Ymir put a soothing hand on her shoulder, muttering under her breath. “I don’t get it,” she admitted. “What does this psychopath want?”

Another chime announced the arrival of the next text, and Armin read it aloud. “Take the signs down and post nothing on Facebook.” Another message followed. “How about I let him send one message for every day you behave?”

“It’s a trick. Without getting the word out, we’ll never find him,” Ymir warned, snatching the phone from Armin. “I’m telling him to fuck off.”

“No wait!” Sasha sat up, eyes wide. “I got a bad feeling!"

"Let’s call the cops," Connie suggested. "Can’t people like that trace phone calls?”

“Well technically its detectives that do missing persons, but every time I call them, they keep telling me no one’s been officially assigned to this case,” Armin admitted, “Mikasa has a contact but she said he’s not exactly helpful. Then again she’s Mikasa so she probably means he doesn’t answer at 12am…”

“This guy’s gotta be playing us.” Connie had crawled over to study the messages. “Remember what Eren said? Don’t listen to him. He’s crazy.”

“But Eren also said not to look for him, supposedly, and how do we know that was even Eren saying it? How do we know it wasn’t this crazy fuck?” Ymir paused as the phone dinged again, reading, “Busy taking a shit?” then she growled. “That’s it.” She pushed a button then talked her message. “FUCK YOU. All of our friends are looking for him and we will find him one way or another. Send.”

The response this time didn’t seem to make sense. It simply said, _“No need to look. He is right here.”_ Ymir growled again, glaring at the phone like it had wronged her, but then another message came through and she almost squeaked, hurrying to show it to the others. It appeared to be another picture of Eren. Although the lights were low, the angle made it clear that whoever had taken it was hovering above him, as before, but this time the blankets had been pulled off to show the rest of his body.

See? Doing fine. Would you like things to stay that way?

“That sounded like a threat,” Armin worried aloud, and sure enough, another picture came through, but this time Eren’s shirt had been pulled up, revealing his stomach and chest.

Ymir quickly answered, “quit taking his clothes off, you fucking perv. Send.”

This time the response took longer and consisted only of a picture of Eren with his chest still exposed and a newly added pair of open scissors. The sharp blades appeared to be lifting the waistband of Eren’s pants, poised to cut them right open. Then another message arrived.

This what makes you tick? Take the fucking signs down.

“Wait a minute, how is he even doing that? Why is Eren just letting him?”

“Dunno…” Ymir grimaced but replied. “He’s not moving. Is he already dead? Send. ”

 _“Asleep,”_ was the one word answer.

“Liar. Send,” was her immediate reply.

Another picture came through after that and the room went silent. It looked like just a regular pink and white bottle of Benadryl, but it spoke volumes. “Benadryl probably won’t hurt him,” Connie pointed out.

“The Benadryl isn’t the problem, moron,” Ymir explained. “The problem is what this psycho can do to him while he’s knocked out like this…”

“I say we take down the signs,” Sasha supplied. “Even if we do, we can still walk around showing them to people, right?”

“I agree,” Historia sounded hopeful though. “Someone must have seen something, or he wouldn’t be so nervous. And he must be a local, right? Otherwise how does he even know about the signs?”

“WAIT. We forgot the most important part!” Connie stood, leaning over the phone. “Ask ‘what will you do if we leave the signs up?’” Ymir nodded and did just that, but again the answer didn’t seem to make too much sense.

Send you some TRULY beautiful pictures.

“Pictures of what?” Historia wondered aloud, but Sasha quickly warned, “DON’T ask him that! It might be something like pictures of Eren being tortured.”

“Guys this is getting dangerous," Historia warned. "Let’s just take down the posters and use other methods. Ymir, tell him we’ll do it.”

Armin and Connie both disagreed, Connie spitting, “Fuck this. I’m calling 9-1-1. This asshole is just playing with us.”

Ymir nodded. “But we have to keep moving. The more we wait the more chance Eren ends up dead.” She still typed in _“we will take them down if u let him text tomorrow,”_ and sent it though, growling when she received, "A very wise choice," in answer. “Fuck this guy. Let’s just buy some more time by playing along. All we have to do is keep Eren alive and keep looking by showing people the signs in person. He can’t be far.”

“How long until Mikasa and Jean get here?” Sasha nudged Ymir’s head as she tried to watch the phone with her.

“Bus should be here in four hours,” Armin answered, huddling beside Connie, who was already talking to someone on his own smartphone. The connection must not have been great though, because he repeated, “a kidnapper,” twice and then growled. “Fucking on hold. This is stupid!”

“Maybe tell them the kidnapper’s most likely gay?” Sasha suggested, wincing when Connie barked, “Why the hell would that help!”

“Because he might rape him.” Ymir’s voice was soft for once, and she actually frowned. “Maybe they’ll take it more seriously if they know that. Also… I’m sure that’s what the ‘beautiful pictures’ will be.”

The whole room went silent, and unfortunately no more messages came through, even after Ymir typed out, “U still there?” and sent it.

Connie grabbed Armin and ducked into the other room, cursing about “business hours my ass,” while the girls stayed behind and scrolled through the photos and messages, their only clues.

“Wait. Look at this one.” Historia stopped on the bottle of Benadryl, pointing out the hand holding the bottle. “White guy.”

“Yeah. No tattoos and no rings, but that’s something.”

“And his nails are perfect. Definitely gay.”

“Wait!” Ymir rushed to find Connie, a smile on her face. “Let’s tell them the kidnapper is a white guy who went to the store to buy Benadryl recently! They can just check the store cams!”

He gave her a thumbs up. It was definitely a good start, and if the kidnapper wanted them to shut up so badly then that told them exactly what they’d have to do to find Eren: make more noise.

* * *

Hey buddy hows the new baby kitty?

**Fuck off. Trying to sleep**

Ooh. Alone?

**FUCK. OFF.**

But I worry. Adoption can be stressful specially 4 such a QT

**I told you not to contact me**

I’ll stop if u send sum pics<3

**Enjoy.**

U did not just send ur middle finger! Bad boy! O but u trimmed ur nails??? How interesting….

**Will be necessary very soon.**

OMG SPILL

**Seems he's more honest at night. Let’s just say his behavior is promising.**

OGMDSHFDDGS plez can u take pics during?

**Wow you’re worse than me**

LMAO! and omg don’t forget! u owe me a caramel cream if u get some cream!

**Whatever**

Did u get any alcohol?

**Won’t be necessary**

OMG I AM DROOLING!! Y DO U DO THIS TO ME

**Freak**

R u sure u cant even send one wittle pic? Just that cute little tail?

**No. I told you he’s asleep**

Ugh ur so boringgggggg

**ITS FUCKING 3AM!**

Fine fine.

**Good**

Better be donuts when I c u today!

**Please go die**

Love u 2! C u soon!

* * *

“Eren… are you even awake?” Eren groaned, verbalizing his displeasure at whatever the fuck was trying to tug him out of his precious world of perfect, cozy dreams. There was something deliciously warm right behind him, and he shifted, backing up to feel only more and more of it… A gentle voice prodded from that same direction though. “Eren… I don’t know if you’re coming on to me or trying to push me off the bed…”

Eren paused, trying to wrap his groggy mind around where he even was… then it hit him. And so did the terror.

 _Why is he behind me!_ He immediately made to get away from that deceptively delicious warmth, which was definitely a male right behind him, but unfortunately his companion reacted, sitting up and quickly catching hold of him.

The fucking collar and chains made it all too easy for Eren to be tugged down, practically into his lap, and Eren accidentally froze. Time itself seemed to still while he tried not to register this sudden world of warm blankets, heat, muscles and clean, softly wrapped eye candy…

Customer seemed confident and calm, guiding him gently closer. “Do you tend to get... cold, in your sleep?” Eren actually struggled to process, though he knew the answer. He nodded. “Well not anymore, then. I’ll take care of that too.”

 _What?_ Eren gradually regained control when it seemed like he wasn’t about to be hurt or pinned. On the contrary, Customer was practically allowing Eren to sit atop him, and his hands were gentle as ever, rubbing soothing warmth into his arms and shoulders. “Hey Eren, you know you can ask me to do things like this for you, right?” His voice sounded soft and sincere. “It’s my job to take care of you, after all. Tell me anything you want and I will do it for you... or to you.”

_Wait what? Yes??_

Eren said nothing, yet felt his whole body heat up, humiliatingly, like a fucking starved dog that had now been presented with meat. Clearly Customer could tell. The gentle fingers which came up to caress his hair and neck had Eren squeezing his eyes shut, hating that he felt just as keen as humiliated. The way this man held him just seemed somehow… reverent, like gentle fingers carefully lifting a valuable, delicate treasure. _Oh my god, that feels good-STOP._ “Like it?” _Keep it together. Keep it together…_ “Eren, you like this, right? Being held?” _God yes…_ Eren’s rational side understood he should not, but he couldn’t help seeking only more. More contact and more warmth, more feeling beloved, cherished, like someone actually thought he was worth something... even though he knew that wasn’t true.

Eren hated himself for wanting anything like this. _So fucking pathetic…_

“You look so sweet right now, you know that, Eren? Fucking precious…” Customer seemed to be enjoying the contact too, more muscular body seeming assured and capable. Eren couldn’t understand it. This man was fucking gorgeous. Surely he could choose a better partner, right? _Someone who can eat? Someone not so skinny and scared? And fucking pathetic_ … And yet here he was holding a nobody like Eren, and he even smirked when Eren had the nerve to relax a little, letting a few of his fingers explore the taught muscle of one of these thick arms holding him. “You like them?” His voice seemed curious. “Or my body type, maybe?” _Uh, hell yes._ Who wouldn’t? “Hey Eren, do you want to feel more?” _Oh my god, yes!_

He wrapped his fingers around as much of that thick arm as he could and tugged ever so slightly, at the same time shifting more of his weight onto this gorgeous, gentle man. In reward he was able to guide those warm fingers to his abs and chest and watched as those soft grey eyes grew darker with fondness, adoring. Eren felt himself shivering now and again though, a war still waging in his head. _Please don’t let him hurt me-oh please, please let him keep touching me…_ Somehow, it seemed to be getting harder to breathe, and the ache inside of him only made itself more and more known. Eren swore he could feel it not just on his cold skin but in his flesh and muscles and even his bones.

Every part of him wanted contact, attention, care, but only slowly… Frankly, he was confused by the level of patience this man seemed to show, interlaced with a sort of bold confidence which kept moving forward. His breath spilled warmth against the back of Eren’s neck and then onto his shoulder as he nuzzled and pulled him ever closer, letting more of Eren’s body enjoy the sensation of pressing to his. Every now and again he’d say something like, “do you like this?” and Eren would nod, silently and ever so slightly. _I like it, I like it…_ He knew that, yet he felt his whole body shudder when even so much as a few fingers made to lift even the corner of his shirt, brushing his abs. “And this?” Now Eren couldn’t reply at all. His eyes had squeezed shut, preparing for something awful but he couldn’t even grasp exactly what. _Oh my god, just fucking say it! I can’t-SAY IT-I fucking hate myself. Please just kill me…_ Fuck, he hated his screwed up brain and body... “Eren?”

Finally, finally, he managed to force a few words out. “I'm just…” _YES! PROGRESS!_ His mouth was working! “I’m just not… used to… things like this.”

“Hmm?” To his surprise, he was given a small smirk. “Was I right in thinking… you’ve never had sex before?”

“Fuck you.” It had come out before he could stop it, but Eren nuzzled closer to make sure this asshole still knew he was interested. “I’m just... like this,” he admitted. “It’s not attractive.”

“Isn’t that a matter of opinion?” At first, Eren wasn’t sure if he might’ve been teasing, but when Customer tightened his hold and pressed his front more firmly against him, Eren got his answer. _Are you serious!_ The contact was brief, as he settled right after, but Eren felt like that small section of his backside was now on fire with want. Something inside of him must’ve snapped at that point then, some sort of safety line he knew better than to cross, and yet Eren crossed it purposely, scooting just as he had in his sleep so his backside could tease and provoke, drawing out a hissed, “fuck, Eren…”

He only closed his eyes, willing himself to just feel and not think, greedily savoring how luscious, tingling heat came to life every time he pressed his body back more firmly. _Touch me, touch me,_ he hoped this said clearly so he wouldn’t have to. Apparently his companion received the message loud and clear, since he tightened his hold and met Eren in the middle, helping press more contact and more heat, and he even let out a low groan which Eren swore woke his whole bottom half suddenly.

“Yes,” was about all he managed to whisper, and yet his attentive partner picked it up and gave just what he wanted. “Please…” Even as he said that, Eren felt his body continue to involuntarily shiver with every new touch, and at one point he even had to fight back an actual whimper. Honestly, he’d expected this moment from day one, dreaded it, and yet now it was here, it felt nothing like what he’d imagined.  
  
Just one large, careful hand nudged its way beneath his shirt, exploring and caressing, moving up and over his abs. _Oh my god, yes…_ Eren fucking hated how his voice then encouraged with a weak little whimper, seeming to scream how pathetic and inexperienced he really was. In truth, Eren had simply been unable to let anybody touch him for years, but now the clinking sound of his chains and collar provided a constant reminder that he had a perfect new excuse. _It's not my fault,_ he could tell himself now. _I'm not a whore._ Either way it was too late. He had had this first taste, after so fucking long, and now his body ached for more. Just as his muscle mass had suffered as he struggled to eat, his body had grown so cold and miserable, positively mourning.

“Please…” Finally he knew what he was begging for.

“Hmm?” Gentle fingers merely brushed over one of his nipples, and Eren gasped, quickly whispering, _“yes!”_

In reward those same fingers caressed and teased in earnest, resulting in sudden shocks of excitement that had Eren leaning back, begging for more. More heat and more attention, more of firm abs pressing to his back and more powerful, muscular arms on both sides of him. The hot voice on the back of his ear now sounded amused. “This what makes you tick?” He teased both nipples then and Eren’s fucking treacherous throat let a moan escape. _YES!_ Why did he suddenly feel almost rushed, desperate? Eren even whimpered with nearly zero reserve. He was now pressing himself back so hard that he swore he could feel the outline of those luscious abs pressing to his skin.

“How precious…” Amazingly, his partner sounded pleased. “You’re so honest…” _He likes it?_ Well then he could have it. All of it. Eren found himself sitting up more, freeing one of his hands so he could pull his shirt up and revel in the feel of bare skin on his own. FINALLY his body was screaming, but his heart constricted. _Make it stop-give me more-Please_ … “Ah, fuck…” From the sound of it, he wasn’t the only one enjoying himself. “Hope you don’t have a fever, Eren… Hope all this is for me…” _Fuck yeah, it is.._. “I meant what I said,” he reminded, “for you I’ll do anything. Tell me, Eren. Anything…”

“Fucking…” Eren let himself be bold. “Worship me.”

“With fucking pleasure.” Soft lips kissed and caressed his neck then, followed by warm, titillating breaths, and Eren hated the way his only free hand found the thick, muscular thigh nudging up on his right and squeezed, encouraging. _Oh my god, yes!_ He wanted to be wrapped up and dominated. _Fucking-NO._ Wanted to be worshipped and adored. _Yes please-No, for fuck’s sake_ … One warm hand kept pinching and rubbing pleasure into his left nipple, while the other ran down his front, very slowly and deliberately. Taking time to trace the lines of his abs and squeeze multiple times before- _YES!_

“Ah!” Eren hated how he trembled and even arched his back even with just that first hint of contact where he wanted it suddenly, desperately. _More,_ he knew his body language begged. _Fucking more. So much more…_ “Please… I’m already there.”

“Hmm? Do you mean… finish you off?” Another brush of smooth fingers and Eren was jerking back so hard he worried he’d hurt someone. “I don’t mind…” _Oh fuck yes!_ “…but I wonder how you like it. Maybe slow?”

“Yes…” _Fuck..._ It was more a breath than a real word, and yet he was obeyed instantly. Firm and steady, the grip he was rewarded with had Eren positively mewling, encouraging every generous stroke and thanking the entire universe for his pants being too big for once, allowing so much precious contact without needing to be removed. “Like that… Harder.” Fuck this felt fucking delectable, to the point Eren had no idea what to think. He swore this method felt familiar and almost too perfect, and yet it was also new and exotic, with delicious, smooth twisting every now and again, something Eren had never tried on himself.

He imagined being on his own bed with his back to the window, as per usual, but with shiny adoring eyes watching him give into carnal temptations. It must have happened, right? Or had those same eyes squeezed shut right as it started, ever gentlemanly, ever wanting to preserve what was sacred?

“Is it fine if you get these pants messy?” That question brought him back to the present and Eren made sure to quickly shake his head. Only then did he really grasp it, but the fact that these fingers hadn’t slipped into his pants, likely because he hadn’t given permission yet, added yet another layer of reassurance on which he had been able to lie and just let go, for once. Clearly, chains or no, his “owner” still intended Eren to have the final say, every single step of the way…

“I’ll… I’ll do it.” Eren brought his free hand to caress and encourage the one rubbing such luscious pleasure between his legs. He then tugged and nudged as much as he needed on his own clothes, squirming just enough, until he sprang free, then guided those hot and generous fingers to take hold. A soft hum on the side of his neck hinted awe or amusement, Eren wasn’t sure, but he shivered, humiliated, either way, and it seemed that earned him a reward.

“You can let go now. I’ll do the rest.” _Oh fuck yes-I fucking hate my whore self!_ Eren nodded and even reached up, exploring rich, silky hair and then encouraging more, deeper kissing on the side of his neck. Heat and wetness were then gifted, sucking pulses of pleasure right into that sensitive area, and torturous, delicious pressure squeezed and stroked smoothly between his legs. _Yes!_ He let his body press back and rub and encourage freely then, finally deciding to let nothing but pleasure get through to him. And it did, obedient and building up to overflow rapidly.

Fuck, he hated how much he loved this and how he couldn’t think about anything but how very terribly long it had been. How cold and lonely and miserable he had been ever since he had stopped being able to let any man tenderly touch him. But now the chains and collar really did prove the perfect escape, letting him tell himself he had no other choice but to surrender and let himself feel spoiled like this. Wanted like this. Treasured like this…

Sweet climax erupted without warning, matching with the squeeze in his chest, and those gifted fingers at the same time, and Eren let the raw pleasure of finally feeling connected swallow everything.

Eren only vaguely registered coming down, breathing heavily, and then being laid carefully on his side while warm kisses and hands pressed softly to his face and chest. All hints of wetness were delicately cleaned away with something soft and absorbent. Eren didn’t know too much else, didn’t even try to open his eyes to learn, and before he knew it, sweet and merciful sleep offered shelter in this glow of warm satisfaction. He knew softness and blankets and warm arms returned to wrap him in comfort, and for once let himself feel connected, even if, in the back of his mind, he knew this was, in reality, a fleeting escape, a fairytale.

Feeling wanted, cherished, and even sexy? _Yeah right_. That was just the result of his loneliness, a selfish, sweet dream, which could never be real.

"Feeling good?"

"Yes," he let himself admit, but then, suddenly, Eren startled, belatedly realizing the man behind him was still hard.

"Hey now," his soft voice reassured while his grip tightened, not letting Eren escape. "Don't worry, Eren. Play time is over, okay?" He nuzzled and kissed, right below his left ear. "Don't forget I'm the owner, okay? It's my job to make sure you have fun, not the other way around." _Really?_ Surely he wasn't serious? How could he be?

"You're not..." Eren trailed off, unable to even put something like that into words, but luckily he could already feel the man behind him shaking his head. 

"Eren, a pampered cat has one job, just to be sweet," Customer said softly. "That is all. Please, let me take care of everything else."

"You too."

"Hmm?"

Eren didn't know why, but a piece of the raw truth he'd kept inside slipped out then. "Please be sweet." Eren hated himself for sounding so weak. "I just... I really don't want you to hurt me."

"Understood, Eren. "Amazingly, he'd answered right away. "I'll try my best to be sweet with you."

"...Promise?"

"Promise."

* * *

Heads up. That prissy  oriental rug is apparently back from the cleaners

**Yeah sorry I told them it was ok to deliver today**

Thanks 4 the warning,  assclown

**Cheer up. I'm getting you donuts right now**

OMG  CREAM FILLED??

**Just glazed, for now**

OMG WE DID IT HOLY FDSDVHFD!!!! CONGRATZZ!!!!!

**Well not yet. Anyway it’s just cream, not a ring**

Baby steps, my guy. Don’t 4get shelter kitties need extra gentle care

**Oh, believe me, I know**

Super proud of u.  lemme no if u need anything 

**Maybe help with that rug. Cant let kitty near it**

O  def not. Real bad mix!

**Exactly but lets see how it looks before we decide what to do with it**

Any chance ud be willing to sell it?

**In that case I get to keep the donuts**

HMM throw in sum pics n u got urself a deal

**For fuck's sake**

Heehee lemme no later?

**God I hate you**

Love u 2! c u soon!


End file.
